There was a man in the basement of my house.
No, that’s not right. I don’t think that thing was a man. I don’t know what it is but…Alright, maybe I should start from the beginning. Maybe along the way, I can begin to…Legitimize what this thing possibly could be. To be honest, this story can be explained in two parts: where it originated from and then the current problem.
Let me begin with where this originated.
We moved into the house…I think I was eleven or twelve at the time? Yeah, probably in middle school. It was me, my mom, my dad, and my little sister. Honestly, even though Hiran and I had a five-year age gap, I like to think I am a pretty good older brother.
From the start, Hiran and I were weirded out by the basement. Maybe I’m attributing it to what I know now, but I think we always had a bad feeling about it. At least, I like to think that. Then again, I’m pretty sure any kid felt uncomfortable about being in an unfinished basement for more than two minutes. I can assure you that for the first four months, we were never down there for longer than that. I did grow out of it but…Hiran never stopped being scared of that basement.
She never stopped avoiding the basement, which became quite confusing to me since, after a few years of living there, we actually finished the basement. It was actually a really nice lounge space at this point, and we even went to watch movies down there. But Hiran would never go down there alone. And then it started.
I know for a fact that before that night, Hiran never used to sleepwalk. She had no history of it at all, and neither did anyone else in our family. But I know what you’re thinking, sleepwalking can be caused by anything. I know that. I know it.
But it doesn’t change the fact that every time we found her in the morning, she was always getting closer and closer to the first floor. Closer to that goddamn basement.
You have to understand, I really didn’t think it was about the basement at first. It really wasn’t a conclusion I had jumped to, and it wasn’t one I’d want to jump to. But when we found her in front of the basement door for more than a week consecutively, I had no other explanation.
The thing was that my sister didn’t have any idea what was going on either. She didn’t know why she was sleepwalking, and she seemed terrified of the fact that she was waking up in front of the basement door.
Eventually, I decided to try something. I thought that maybe I could catch Hiran in the act of sleepwalking. Maybe if I woke her up, she would stay asleep in her bed after. It actually worked, she stayed asleep if I woke her up after she started sleepwalking.
I mentioned it to my parents, and honestly, they knew I struggled to go to sleep so they brushed me off with an, “If you’re awake at the time, then yes, go wake her up,” and that was that.
One time, I tried waking her up before she even started sleepwalking, but that didn’t seem to help. Once she fell asleep again, she’d start her routine walk again. She had to be woken up once she had started sleepwalking.
For a while, it was all fine. If it had stayed that way, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.
Now, this nightmare was weird. Trust me, I tried explaining it to Mateo and it just…I’m lucky he believed me at all. The nightmare was…I tend to have nightmares and night terrors often but this one was really something.
It was a lucid dream, I remember that. I knew I was in a dream and I knew for a fact that I was not in my house. Or, not in my house as I knew it. It took a moment to realize that I definitely wasn’t myself either. I was…Younger, I think. Couldn’t tell how old I was but if I had to guess, I’d say five or six years old. I was thirteen at the time so a pretty obvious difference. I was assuming I was still a boy though, from what I could tell, the clothing I was wearing was definitely not from the modern day. Probably around the early 1900s, if the very minimal amount of electric light sources were to say anything.
The room was exactly the same as the room I had currently in the house except it was completely empty. It was like we had only just been moving in, and the dark, stormy weather outside didn’t help with the eerieness of how…Bare everything was.
Eventually, I gathered myself enough to stand up from where I was sitting in the middle of the room and carefully look outside my door. Everything was once again, exactly the same yet still so different. The layout of the house seemed to be the same but the materials it was made of as all different, and outdated. Obviously, by this point, I assumed I was having a weird dream set in the past.
I heard footsteps downstairs and for some reason, a sort of…Instinct gripped me, and I suddenly felt that being seen wasn’t a good idea. I hid behind the wall next to the staircase, the same staircase my sister would walk down when she was sleepwalking, peeking out to see a couple of people in period costumes. Or, I suppose they’re not costumes if that’s what they actually wore back then. There was an older man, an older woman, a teenage boy, a teenage girl, and two children who seemed to be older than me, a pair of twins.
I supposed this was my family in the dream. Still, I had this unexplainable feeling that being seen was probably not the best for me.
Just as I thought this, there was a heavy knocking on the door, making me jump. I honest to God thought that someone was banging on the door with a hammer. Quickly, the older man and woman, my mom and dad presumably, moved quickly, unlocking what I had only just then realized was kind of an overkill number of locks. There were like…Six or seven lining the side of the door. Something was weird about all of this.
And then, of course, they opened the door, and when I saw who was waiting outside, I had to stop myself from yelping.
There were six figures wearing heavy black cloaks-or were they robes? I couldn’t entirely tell and I don’t exactly remember. I think there were seven or eight of them, finally coming into view under the dim light of the foyer. It was unsettling enough that so many people were coming in during such a heavy storm, but that wasn’t even the worst part.
They were all wearing what I can only describe as plague doctor gas masks, except without the long beak. Every single person, even the ones that looked like children, was wearing those masks.
By this point, I was really worried that I had stumbled upon some cultish family in my dream. I’m still not sure if I was wrong about that.
They talked in hushed whispers, nothing I could really discern, but the strangest thing occurred to me. Even though I was just up the stairs, I could hear everything “my family” was saying but I couldn’t understand a word. It was hopeless to even try with the masked figures.
No one bothered to ask where I was. “My parents” never called for me to come down. Eventually, they began to move away from the foyer, walking towards what was the living room in my house outside of the dream.
That was when I noticed him. No… “Him” is giving too much credit to that thing. I saw it, and immediately, I wished I had never left my room because I knew even under that mask, it was staring in my direction. Even though I couldn’t see its eyes, I could feel its piercing gaze cutting through my skin.
There was nothing that was very obviously inhuman about it, and I think if I hadn’t already been so tense, I might have not even noticed. But I was tense. So, I did notice. Its limbs were just a little bit too long, making its proportions look…Off. Its fingers were definitely longer than your average human’s, and more animalistic. And sharp. I still remember the sound of those fingers scraping against the wood wall almost methodically. I don’t even know why it did that, it just did, and then-
And then it turned to look at me, and I swear to you, it was the most horrible feeling. I couldn’t even see its eyes but I still knew it was looking at me. And all I could feel was this intense…Nothingness. I don’t know how to explain it but it just felt like every feeling, every emotion, every atom that made up the person I was was just…Nothing. More than that, it felt like I was being filled from my feet to my head with this absolute nothingness, this intense void.
I had to stop myself from throwing up and immediately ran back to my room and closed the door, as quickly and quietly as I could. I wish that it had made a difference.
Whatever happened between then and around 2 AM in the morning isn’t relevant to the story, I don’t entirely remember it. I’m not sure if I even left the room or not at that time. But that’s not important. What’s important is that at some point, I fell asleep in the dream, and when I woke up, I felt that…that horrible emptiness again. God, I can’t even explain that thing, it’s just…Until you experience it yourself, you will never understand. And I know you don’t believe me, not entirely, but someday…If you’re looking into things like this, I’m warning you. It will find you. And it will take pleasure in breaking your mind, forcing you to feel how empty, how numb, how hollow everything is.
Right, I’m sorry, I got distracted. When I woke up, the feeling came over me, and immediately, even though I really didn’t want to, I looked up.
I let out a sigh of relief. Nothing.
But that didn’t mean I was in any way relaxed. After all, that feeling, that…God, I don’t even want to think about it…But that feeling was still there. Looking around my room, I felt my body relax even more as I realized that even though I could sense it, it wasn’t in the room with me. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.
And then, of course, I realized what it could be. Slowly, I stood up, and step by step, I moved towards my door. Every inch forward, I felt that void spreading further through me, draining me. It was almost physical, so much so that I remember, I actually slouched against the wall, gripping it to try and move forward.
In a trance, I reached out toward the door. I have to say, I think I was insanely lucky that I heard the knock on the window. Well, later I’d find out that was actually Mateo throwing a rock at my window in real life, not in the dream, but I think I subconsciously incorporated that sound into my dream.
It snapped me out of it, and I thank Mateo for it all the time because if I’m being honest, I’m not sure what would have happened to me if I opened that door.
As soon as I snapped out of it, I moved back from the door quickly, I’m pretty sure I tripped over my feet multiple times, getting back to my bed. I climbed in and I just sat there, hidden under the covers. And I sat there for so long. I don’t know how long I sat there, trembling in silence, praying the blanket would offer me a little bit of protection.
Obviously, the blanket didn’t do anything. But at the same time, nothing happened. Not a single thing happened and morning came way too slowly. At some point, I’d fallen asleep sitting up under the blankets, and I woke up pretty late in the day, definitely past 10 AM.
It was still raining outside, but not as stormy and dark as it was the day before. And the feeling was completely gone. I couldn’t help it, I had to make sure. I got out of bed and walked to the door, slowly and carefully, just waiting for that pit inside me to grow larger and larger, consuming me with the sheer emptiness I felt before. Instead, though, there was nothing.
I opened the door. There was nobody there.
But there wasn’t nothing there.
Outside the door, there were two, solid black footprints. And trust me, when I say they were black, I mean like…You know how scientists found that one color, vantablack? How it absorbs over 99% of the light that hits it? Yeah, that kind of black.
It was weird, I can’t describe exactly what it was but something about the footprints felt wrong. Inhuman. I don’t know, and I don’t really want to think about it. I don’t feel like doubting my sanity today.
I could hear a sort of faint chanting coming from downstairs and at this point, I was completely sure this was some sort of cult family and that I’d somehow unwillingly been dragged into some crazy ritual.
I was like twelve, so please excuse the absolutely foolish decision I made next, which was not to make myself wake up by pinching myself or something like that, but instead to actually go downstairs. I wasn’t stupid enough to let myself be seen though. I hid behind a wall and peered into the room where the chanting was the loudest, looking into our main family room.
The figures were all wearing heavy black cloaks again, and I realized the weird crackling sound I’d been hearing the whole time wasn’t actually just me, but it was actually the sound of a fire. There was a small bonfire in the middle of the group of people, and they were chanting something in a language I couldn’t entirely understand, but it did seem to have European roots. But that, to anyone’s surprise, was not actually what caught my attention.
The basement door was still there.
It wasn’t different from the rest of the house, I swear, this was literally my basement door, from my house the way that I knew it. I noticed there was something peeking out from under the door, a black cloth or something. Slowly, I moved closer to the door, not even thinking about whether the other people would see me.
My heart sank as I felt it again. That void, that emptiness. I almost gagged, stumbling a little bit quietly, grabbing the door. I rested my weight on it, not turning the handle or anything. But I could feel it. I could feel the nothingness, just on the other side of the door.
It took me too long to realize the thing poking out from under the door wasn’t a cloth. It was a tendril of some sort, and even though it wasn’t actually hurting me, wrapping around my ankles, I could hear screaming and noises of flesh tearing from behind me, where the ritual was taking place.
It was like it spoke to me, “Child…Come to me…Return to the darkness that you emerged from, that all of your kind emerged from. Return to being a small speck of insignificance in this wider universe. Become my next meal, and you shall at least serve a purpose, unlike the others. They are nothing. You are nothing. Return to me.”
I put my hand on the door, and suddenly, I was jolted awake. My eyes shot open when I felt someone grab my hand, and I wasn’t in the dream anymore. I almost screamed as I saw my little sister standing next to me in the dark, her face almost as pale as a ghost as she said, “Don’t.”
I looked down to realize that I was actually downstairs, right in front of the basement door. Where I had been in the dream. And my hand was on the handle to the basement door, about to turn it. It was only stopped by my seven-year-old sister’s small hand.
“Don’t open it,” She whispered to me, “If you let it out, then you’ll never leave the basement.”
I was too out of it to ask what she meant by that at that point. Without saying a word, both of us headed back up the stairs, and somehow, we both actually fell asleep again.
With a better night of rest, I think my brain started working once again and I was able to actually ask questions, wondering what the hell my sister had meant. Usually, I got home before her from school, and our parents usually left us alone, trusting me to make sure everything was alright until they got home from work. When she came home from school, I confronted her.
Apparently, she hadn’t been able to sleep and saw me. She followed me down the stairs and then freaked out when she realized where I was going and woke me up.
When I asked her about what she meant when she said that if I let it out, I’d never leave the basement, she froze up and just shook her head, “I don’t know. Just…Trust me on this one. It’s just a feeling but please, don’t go in there,” I might have been curious, but I wasn’t an idiot. I wasn’t about to push my luck, not with how the dream went.
“Hiran, do you…Do you dream? About the basement?” I asked her.
She hummed, “Kind of? It’s like…The basement door is always there in the dream, but it’s not always in our house if you know what I mean. Do you have dreams as well?”
I shook my head, “I didn’t before. Last night was the first time it happened. I’ve never sleepwalked before.”
“Neither did I, not until we got to this house,” Hiran pointed out. She was right, neither of us ever had a history of sleepwalking.
I was relieved a bit when I realized that both of us were seeming to sleepwalk at the same time. That would make this a lot easier.
That night, I stayed awake, waiting for my sister to start sleepwalking. I heard her shifting from the other room and the footsteps, soft and quiet. I could recognize they were hers. I opened the door quietly to watch her. She was still in her room, about to step outside when suddenly, the phone alarm went off. Her eyes shot open and she seemed dazed for a moment, completely confused before she seemed to realize what was happening. Slowly, she trudged back to bed and climbed back in.
I stayed awake the rest of the night. She didn’t sleepwalk again.
That became our plan for months, and then it became years. We had the dreams still, sure, but we always had our phones on us so the alarms would always wake us up before we got to the basement door. Things were really going fine-However much “fine” we could be with…Something in our basement. It was still fine for me to go in during the daytime. But once it was past 11 PM, my sister would always give me a look if I went near the basement door.
Everything was fine. It was, until one night when I was seventeen.
Mateo was a friend from school, I’d met him when we were both in middle school. We’d gotten close enough that he knew I had issues when it came to sleep. Not the details, he’d only managed to pull a little bit of information out of me when I had almost passed out in front of him one time when I didn’t have my phone and didn’t have an alarm to wake me up before I’d start sleepwalking.
That particular day, Mateo had agreed to come over to my house so that we could work on a project. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to stay overnight, he was actually supposed to leave around dinner time. But there had been complications with the weather and his parents thought it would be safer for him to just sleep over at my place. They were a bit hesitant since my parents were on a trip, but I think that since they knew me, they trusted me.
Everything was actually going pretty well, Mateo and I finished the project pretty quickly and both of us watched a movie with my sister. Mateo and Hiran got along pretty well, he was almost like another older brother to her. It was really sweet.
We had some food in the fridge that we heated up and ate as leftovers, and Hiran went off to sleep pretty early, saying she was tired. Mateo and I hung out downstairs for a while longer, just casually scrolling through Netflix. Eventually, he turned to me, “You said at some point you wanted to explain what’s going on with your sleep schedule, Harish. I almost completely forgot to ask you.”
To be fair, I had forgotten as well, and I explained “Right, well…Okay, every night, at about 2:30 AM, I start sleepwalking. It’s nothing bad, you don’t have to worry about it. I know we initially said you could sleep in my room as well but I don’t want to bother you with my alarm-”
He cut me off, “It’s alright, dude, I don’t mind. Besides, at least if I’m sleeping in the same room as you, I can wake you up if I notice you sleepwalking. Just relax, I’m easy. You don’t have to do anything special for me, we’ve known each other for years,” He said.
I think I said something stupid after that, like, “Keep talking like that and I’m going to fall in love with you,” I don’t remember. I was a stupid teenager with a crush, alright?
Eventually, by about midnight, the both of us were already on the verge of falling asleep, after playing video games for a while in my room. You’d think two seventeen-year-old boys would be able to stay up much later but during finals season? We needed all the sleep we could get.
I think I fell asleep first, but I can’t be sure. Pretty quickly, I was launched into a dream. This time, I was back in the older version of my house. I had some dreams repeat, but this version of the house was always the rarest. It happened once or twice after the first time, but I always woke up before anything could happen.
Looking out the window, I was slightly confused to see just plain flatlands going in every direction I could see, and waves of fog rolling in. There was simply nothing around me. At that moment, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I realized I couldn’t hear anything. There were no signs of life inside the house.
I opened the door carefully and stepped outside of my room. And I think the strangest part about it was that it was actually quite bright outside, sunny. It seemed like midday. And yet something felt so terribly unsettling about it. It definitely had to do with how empty everything felt. How there was really nothing around me.
The house was bare walls again, with no furniture, no wall painting, nothing. The moment I took a step down though, I could feel it. It was that horrible emptiness again, like everything that made me a person, that made me an existence at all, was being drained from me. I can’t even properly describe it, but it was as though everything that gave me significance in this universe disappeared more and more with every step I took down the stairs.
Even more terrifying was that I realized I couldn’t stop. My body was moving against my will, taking down those familiar stairs, slowly, methodically.
When I hit the first landing, that was when I heard the voice again. It was the same voice I had heard over five years ago, coming from behind the basement, speaking to me again. Its voice whats almost multi-pitched, a disharmonious sound, “Come to me, child. You’ve escaped me for so long…It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, been able to taste your existence,” I shivered, “Come back to me, you know you are worth nothing. You know it, and you’re comfortable with it. You want to come to me, you want to give in. You hate that you are under the impression that you may have even the smallest significance. You hate that it is not black and white, that you cannot be sure that you are significant or not. And for that reason, you wish to not be able to struggle anymore. Come to me, my child. I will provide you with sweet bliss and ignorance. You will become nothing.”
It was kind of terrifying how this…Whatever it was…It knew me in a way that even I didn’t know myself. Some of the things it said that night, I didn’t even know about myself. Or I did know it subconsciously, but never really managed to process it.
I won’t lie, it was actually tempting.
I didn’t mention this before, but due to my parents being very emotionally distant, I had struggled with self-esteem issues as a teenager. And a lot of it had to do with my inability to understand how I could be important in such a big world, in such a huge universe. So, the things the voice was saying…It hit every point.
Maybe that’s why I didn’t stop myself when I got to the bottom of the stairs and turned towards the direction of the basement door.
There was a shadow creeping out from under the door that didn’t actually make sense. I mean, the way the light was coming into the house, that shadow just shouldn’t have been there. I don’t think I cared though. Although the closer I stepped toward the door, the more I started to feel like I really didn’t want to go in that door.
It took me until that moment to realize that I didn’t want to go on in there, but there was a voice in the back of my head, and I swear to you, it was not mine, telling me to go in there. I started to panic as I realized I couldn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop, and this thing wasn’t going to let me go. My hand touched the cold doorknob of the familiar door and I felt any will, any feeling, just…Everything was gone.
Just as I began to push the door open, I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me.
My eyes shot open and Mateo was standing in front of me, looking at me with concern in his eyes, “…Harish?” He asked, almost checking if I was actually awake.
I turned back to the basement door, and my eyes widened a bit as I realized I had actually opened it just a little bit.
I had to bite back a scream as through the crack in the door, I saw the same figure that I saw five years ago, the one that I know wasn’t human, the thing I know was standing outside my bedroom in that dream, and the thing that I know was in my basement.
The worst part was when it looked at me, it…looked…at me. And I knew that this thing knew it almost got me. It almost took me, it almost convinced me to become a part of…Whatever it is.
I slammed the door close and stumbled a bit, falling onto Mateo, who was so startled that he fell to the ground, “Are you okay-” He began to say but I cut him off. I was probably rambling and blabbering, and I doubt I made any sense with how I was hyperventilating.
Mateo grabbed my face with both hands and looked me directly in the eyes, “Hey, hey, Harish? I need you to pay attention to me,” He said, “You’re panicking. You need to calm down or distract yourself. I can help you, but I need you to let me. Can I kiss you?”
Honestly, I don’t think I entirely processed Mateo was asking to kiss me because I probably would have freaked out more. At that point, I just nodded.
Uh, needless to say, he managed to distract me until I wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. Once I was able to put together my thoughts, I told him everything. I was surprised he believed me, but all he told me was, “You’d be surprised by some of the strange things I’ve seen and heard. I’m not about to write this off, especially since it’s you.”
Apparently, from his point of view, he hadn’t even heard me leave the room. At some point, he woke up to drink some water and realized I wasn’t in bed and the door to my room was wide open. He went downstairs to investigate the footsteps and found me at the basement door. That was when he woke me up, confused about why I was going downstairs even though I had always mentioned how I hated going into the basement at night.
“Did you…Did you see the thing in the basement?” I asked quietly when we were back upstairs on my bed.
Mateo hummed and looked up at the ceiling, laying next to me, “I saw…Something. I couldn’t make it out though, from the angle I was at. But there was certainly something. What happened, by the way? You said you usually don’t make it past the stairs…”
I felt a bit stupid. In my excitement about having Mateo over, I had actually forgotten to set my alarm properly. He still thinks that’s cute.
He was worried about what might happen if something like this happened while he wasn’t here or if no one noticed, so the next morning before he left, I promised him I’d text him every night that I set the alarm. By the time he left, I was actually feeling a bit more secure. And I’d secured a boyfriend, but we can talk about that another time.
Most of my senior year in high school actually went by fine. This little routine I’d come up with worked well, and my sister was much better with remembering the alarm than I to start with, so Hiran was always alright.
And then college happened. Mateo and I ended up dorming together. That went, uh, actually really well, as you can probably guess. It was kind of like testing to see if living together was really something that worked for us.
Once I left home, the threat of the basement was gone. I didn’t have nightmares, I didn’t sleepwalk or anything. It was so strange.
And then I got the news.
It was the spring of my first year in college, and my mother called me, crying.
Hiran was missing.
She was only thirteen, and she was scared of everything. And she talked to me almost every day. There was no way she just ran away, not with everything still in her room. I think I was numb when I first heard about it.
The police investigated it for months, but they found nothing. They were useless. I knew what happened the moment I stepped back into that house when summer vacation began.
The moment I passed the basement door, I knew. Hiran wasn’t missing. I don’t know if she’s dead. But she’s in the basement. That thing…Sometimes while I was gone, it had gotten to her. I had left her behind and she had no one left to protect her.
I couldn’t stay there. My parents thought it was due to the grief. Mateo’s family was wonderful enough to let me stay with them for the summer. My parents…I don’t think they even really cared. They were so wrapped up in the fact that they lost a child that they kind of forgot they actually had another one that was feeling the same pain as them.
Eventually, Mateo and I got an apartment on campus. I got through college with his support and a lot of therapy. I proposed to him the night of our graduation when I took him out to dinner. We got married the summer after our engagement.
A few weeks after the wedding, my parents called me and asked me for a favor. You see, after I went to Mateo’s family’s home when I was nineteen, my parents actually moved out of that house. But they couldn’t stand the thought of selling, so…It ended up being their wedding gift to me.
I don’t know what I was thinking, maybe it was wishful thinking, hoping that since the house had been empty for three years, the thing would be gone. And to be fair, when we were moving all the boxes in and stuff, I didn’t actually feel anything out of place.
But then night came, and I woke up to find myself at the top of the stairs. More importantly, I wasn’t in bed, and Mateo was holding my hand, “Love? You were sleepwalking again…” He said cautiously.
I wasn’t looking at him. I was looking down the stairs, “Mateo…I need to see it. I need to know if she’s still down there…But if I go alone then I-I might open the door,” I whispered, my eyes moving towards to basement door.
His hand tightened around mine, “I’m coming with you,” He confirmed.
As we walked down again, it was like I was 12 again, and I was losing myself with every step I took. The only thing that kept me clinging to my sanity, onto my will to live, was that Mateo refused to let go of my hand.
We stood in front of the door and I shivered, “What is it?” Mateo asked me softly.
I was wrong. It wasn’t her. It may have been Hiran at one point, but whatever was down there, it wasn’t my baby sister anymore. I could hear her voice, warped and sickly sweet, asking me to come down, asking me why I left her to die, to become this…This thing. Why I let the nothingness take her. I told Mateo about as much.
He pulled me away from the door and gently but firmly directed me up the stairs again. As we got back to my childhood room, he locked it and pulled me into bed, holding me, “We’re leaving tomorrow morning. I almost lost you five years ago. I’m not risking that again. Fuck your parents, this was a shitty wedding gift anyways.”
I laughed a bit as I choked on my tears, “You’re right, who gifts their son the house his sister died in as a wedding gift?” At some point, I stopped laughing and I had resorted to just crying. He held me throughout it all, stroking my hair until I cried myself to sleep.
We left the next morning.
The reason I’ve come to you, though, is because I can feel that the thing is still there. And it’s still calling out to me with my sister’s voice. Now, I saw your last post about another person’s account you transcribed and posted. The woman with the phone from the future where her sibling died to something they called “The Nothing”?
I think you might want to know this but the way they described that Nothingness? That’s exactly what I felt about that thing in my basement. It’s what I felt anytime I passed the basement door. Please. If you can do something about this-If you know how to get rid of it-
Because there was a man in my basement. Now, there’s something in my basement. It’s supposed to be my little sister, but I don’t think it’s her anymore.
Post-Account Transcriber’s Note:
I thought posting here was going to be a one-time thing. Turns out that this may be bigger than I thought.
Hello, everyone. I’d recommend reading Part 1 here, which is a previous account. You do not have to, but it might help to understand the situation I’ve found myself in. Let me explain: Every post here is going to be a transcription of testimonies that are told to me, either in person or through other means such as notes and journals. The previous account was a transcription sent in by the client, which I simply uploaded.
A slight addition to the aforementioned Part 1, which will be the first account in these files: The woman who gave me her testimony told me that her sister and “Karina” were actually part of a training program, and that “Ahari” had started freaking out when she stopped drinking the water from the agency, realizing she had been manipulated. I need to monitor that situation to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand. If the agency finds out we know, it could put a lot of people in danger…
Now, for my debriefing on this account: Mr. Harish provided me with an address, which he said to be his childhood home. I took a small team with me just to be safe. I didn’t feel anything myself, but one of my teammates almost lost consciousness upon touching the door. As one of us went to open it, Mari began to scream that we “might let it out” and collapsed as they approached it.
I don’t know how much I believe in what’s happening, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. That door is staying closed for now. I’m going to talk to Mari once they’ve calmed down a bit. Their reaction was strange, the closer they got to the door, the more pale and exhausted they looked, as though they’d been drained of all energy. They even stumbled a bit. I might be overthinking, but that reminds me a bit of Mr. Harish’s dream when he was young.
This…Nothingness. This is the second mention of it. If it was just one occurrence, I would have just written it off as a strange occurrence or perhaps a figment of imagination. However, I have checked. “Ahari” and Mr. Harish have nothing in common, they don’t even know each other. No common interests (That are important at least), not in the same field. The only commonality is that they’re both Indian. But if my hunch is right, then Mari would be an outlier, since they’re not Indian.
Right now, though, I think I want to talk to Mr. Harish’s husband, Mr. Mateo. Something doesn’t sit right with me about how easily he accepted what Mr. Harish said. Sure, it could be because of love, but at the same time, most sane people would have at least questioned Mr. Harish a bit more.
I’ll update more when I get more information. I think I’m going to have a few more encounters and accounts to transcribe in the next few months. For now, I’m going to look for ways to make sure that Mr. Harish cannot get back into his childhood home in any way. Definitely would recommend medication, I know there are ones that reduce sleepwalking episodes by quite a bit.
I’ve decided to post my findings and these transcriptions here because I know this is going to lead to me digging into some places that would probably want to silence me. So, at least there will be a record of what I’ve figured out so far this way.
As for who I am and why I am investigating this, let’s just go with this: It’s part of my job to make sure that things like this “Nothingness” don’t become a real danger to those who are…Unaware. That’s all you need to know. I suppose in a twisted way, I’m a sort of captain. If that’s the case…Huh, I suppose this works.
This is your captain, signing off for now.